


Soft and Secretive

by Cam_elot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Party, Christmas at 221B Baker Street, Established Relationship, M/M, Molly Hooper is a Good Friend, Secret Relationship, johnlock if you squint (can be completely ignored), mystrade, soft Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 13:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cam_elot/pseuds/Cam_elot
Summary: Everything looked perfectly in place and in control, like always. His clothes neat and cut to shape his body and not anyone's else. His jaw clean shaved, his skin smooth and pale. His auburn hair neatly slicked back.He was gently clasping his cufflinks, the last detail to his otherwise perfect attire.Mycroft Holmes was a feast for the eyes, and Greg Lestrade could not get enough of him.Or, after spending weeks apart because of a mission abroad, Greg and Mycroft have barely had time to enjoy each other before they're expected to be at 221B for a Christmas party. Nobody there knows they're an item, except Molly.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88
Collections: Holmestice Exchange - Winter 2019





	Soft and Secretive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).

Everything looked perfectly in place and in control, like always. His clothes neat and cut to shape his body and not anyone's else. His jaw clean shaved, his skin smooth and pale. His auburn hair neatly slicked back.He was gently clasping his cufflinks, the last detail to his otherwise perfect attire.  
Mycroft Holmes was a feast for the eyes, and Greg Lestrade could not get enough of him.

"Darling, you should get dressed. We will be leaving shortly." Mycroft had not even raised his eyes from his cuffs, but Greg saw the slight curve at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm waiting for you."

At this, the older man finally pulled his cuffs into place and turned fully towards the bed were his lover was seated. He raised an eyebrow at Greg's slouched form, his naked body still humid from the shower he just took, water gently dripping in fat drops from his silver hair onto the towel around his neck.  
Greg smiled at him and got up, relaxed and confident in his nudity as he walked to Mycroft and stood in front of him.

"Do you require some help, Detective Inspector?"

The smile that greeted the question was answer enough. Gently, Mycroft took hold of the towel and dried his lover's body.  
They didn't have enough time for a proper cuddle, as much as he would have liked to. So he spent as much time as he could spare slowly drying off the head of unruly grey hair, until the strands were left soft, shiny and sticking in every direction. He left butterfly kisses on Greg's shoulders, back, hips, thighs and calves, as he dried his lover's body.  
Once he was done, Mycroft pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

"I missed this."

"Me too." Greg swallowed around the small lump in his throat. "Please don't go away for so long again?"

"I'll do my best darling."

His hands were ever so gentle when he dressed Greg in one of his best suit, a colorful red tie matching his own discreet cufflinks.

* * * *

"Happy Christmas, come on in, come on in!"

John's smile was infectious, as was the cheerful atmosphere in 221B Baker Street. Mrs Hudson was listening to Sherlock playing the violin with Rosie on her lap and Molly by her side, while Bill was banging pots in the kitchen. John hung Greg's coat and ushered him to the sofa.  
The flat smelled of Christmas pies, and before Greg could say more than hello to everybody he found himself with a plate of small pies and a glass of eggnog. He leant against the high windowsill, sipping thoughtfully with an eye on the street below and another on Sherlock twirling around the room to Rosie's delighted giggles.  
Molly joined him with her own drink dangling from her fingers.

"Waiting for Mycroft?"

Greg's dark eyes glanced sharply at Sherlock over her bony shoulder. The detective had just plucked Rosie from Mrs Hudson's lap, giving her a cookie, his full attention on the little girl.

"Yeah, he should arrive in a tick."

Molly took a few sips before turning her back fully to the rest of the room, her voice low and gentle.

"For how long are you two planning to keep this a secret?"

Greg shrugged, not meeting her eyes.

"Dunno." He mumbled around a pie. "Mycroft is… well he's not ready for Sherlock to…" He made a vague hand gesture. "He's not ready for Sherlock."

Molly hummed under her breath, turning around towards the room again.

"I think you would be surprised."

"Maybe."

Greg was more than convinced that Sherlock would not react badly. Being a tease and a pain in the arse about the whole thing, yes - but when was he not? - but surely he wouldn't actually be upset or cause any harm to any of them. The brothers were getting on way better than they used to,even if Sherlock was still very much playing it cool and unconcerned around Mycroft most of the time.

Car lights approaching down the road caught Greg's attention, and when he saw Mycroft stepping out of the slick black Mercedes his throat suddenly felt dry with eagerness and nerves.  
The front door opened and closed as Sherlock was putting his violin back in its box.

"Ah… it seems my dear brother has finally deigned to arrive." His voice loud enough to be heard perfectly from the stairs.

"Apologies for my tardiness. Traffic was horrendous." Mycroft stepped into the room, a tight smile on his pale face.

Even if he had left the flat only a short hour ago, the sight of his lover made Greg's heart beat faster. It felt very much like they hadn't seen each other in weeks, which had been the case until that morning.  
Mycroft was greeting John and Mrs Hudson with a polite and reserved twitch of his lips which turned into a full smile when he turned to Rosie. The little girl wiggled in Mrs Hudson's lap, stretching out her little arms towards Mycroft with glee. He gently picked her up and cradled her against his chest, big hands soft around her body as she began tugging inquisitively at his silk tie.  
Sherlock, quite obviously about to make a snarky comment, seemed to deflate at the sight. He merely rolled his eyes and strode to the kitchen to help Bill with diner - or more likely nick a mince pie behind the cook's back. Greg was still a bit surprised by Sherlock's and Bill's growing friendship, as well as the genuine camaraderie he now had with John. The lanky and sarcastic younger man was often seen at 221B, helping out with cases, giving a hand with food and grocery shopping, or just watching telly with John when Sherlock was experimenting in the kitchen. Greg was not exactly sure where he lived, he didn't seem to be using or living in the streets anymore, but his whereabouts when he wasn't in Baker Street were a mystery to the Detective Inspector.  
Mycroft crouched down on the heavy carpet, letting Rosie down for her to play with her toys. He glanced up at Greg from the floor, his piercing eyes darting from behind his red eyelashes. His smile turned soft and secretive, and Greg couldn't help but answer it. Mycroft stood up and walked towards them, looking pleased and fond.

"Good evening" Mycroft nodded at Molly who hummed in return before moving away to the kitchen. His eyes sparkled in the low light as he greeted Greg. "Detective Inspector"

Greg grinned at him, taking advantage of everyone else in the room being occupied to gently stroke a finger down Mycroft's silk tie.

"Hey, 'm glad you're here." Whispered Greg with a grin.

John called everyone for a toast and they join the others, doing their best not to glance too much at each others.

* * * *

Midnight was approaching and Greg was chatting with John, installed on the sofa with a cuppa as the doctor leant against the desk. Mycroft sat next to the policeman, listening to Molly talking enthusiastically about a conference she had attended. Mrs Hudson had been filling their glasses more and more as the evening stretched out and Greg had seen with amusement Mycroft getting more and more tipsy, light pink spreading on his cheekbones and his eyes getting glassy.  
Rosie was half-asleep on Molly's lap, but when Sherlock came over to put her to bed the little girl clung to her dress not willing to let go. They ended up going upstairs to put her to bed together. John took the glasses to the kitchen while Mrs Hudson and Bill were looking through a photo album in a corner. Mycroft sighed, shuffling on the sofa to find a better position.

"Hey love" mumbled Greg, discreetly stroking his index finger over Mycroft's hand. "You sleepy?"

Mycroft hummed under his breath, blinking slowly at him with a small smile on his relaxed face. He glanced at the fireplace where Mrs Hudson and Bill were engrossed in the pictures, before sliding closer to Greg. With a content exhale he put his head on Greg's shoulder, softening against him.

They hadn't had time to cuddle and enjoy each other's presence since he came back in the early hours of the morning. The weeks apart had left them craving and desperate for touch, and the short hour between Mycroft's arrival and Greg's time to get to work had not been spend snuggling. Neither the couple ones after work before they left for 221B.  
Mycroft had left for almost two months, their only communication a short call every few days. It was the first time they had been away for such a long time since the night Greg had taken his courage and offered Mycroft a drink with a gentle touch on his hand.  
The days and weeks spent between his sad little flat and Mycroft's empty and cold townhouse had been miserable for Greg. And now spending their first evening back together being apart, barely talking with each other, stealing glances and brushes… Greg couldn't resigned himself to get away from Mycroft's gentle tenderness, despite the possibility of John or Sherlock coming back in the room any minute now, or the two other guests at the opposite side of the room turning their heads and see them. Molly was the only one present who knew.

He heard John shuffling in the kitchen and gently pushed his fingers in Mycroft's hair.

"John will be back any second love" he whispered reluctantly.

"...do not care." Sighed Mycroft snuggling closer, his cold nose sliding against Greg's throat.

"...Sherlock'll be down in a minute too."

Mycroft tensed slightly. Sherlock was the main - and probably the real sole - reason why they hadn't made their relationship official yet. Both of them feared the detective's reaction, but Mycroft even more than Greg. The brothers had been slowly reaching a point of gentle politeness, with less and less snarky comments from Sherlock and a significant backing down from Mycroft's controlling tendencies. He feared the younger Holmes would see their relationship like a betrayal, another attempt from Mycroft to mingle with his life, his friends.

"Sherlock can deal with this."

Greg's eyes rounded and he turned his head to brush his mouth on his lover's forehead. He could feel the long body relaxing once more, getting lax and heavier against his side.

"Are you sure?"

Mycroft's low "yes" was mumbled sleepily in his neck.

Long minutes passed before anyone walked back to their side of the living room. John had gone up to kiss his daughter goodnight and listen with Molly to the end of the story Sherlock had been coerced into telling Rosie.

When the three of them returned from upstairs, Mycroft had fallen asleep tucked in the crook of Greg's shoulder. His long legs crossed and his lover's hand gently drawing circles on his knee. Sherlock paused for a split second at the door, eyes bouncing his brother's sleeping form to Greg's dark measuring eyes. He went to the kitchen without a word.  
John went to sit in his chair, eyebrows raised at Greg. The policeman smiled and shrugged the shoulder not used as a cushion by Mycroft. Molly joined Mrs Hudson and Bill to look at the pictures, throwing a cheerful smile to Greg over her shoulder.  
Sherlock came back into the room with two steaming cups of tea. He gave one to Greg without a word, and strode to John's chair to give him the second one. He perched himself on John's chair's armrest, his hand gently resting on the doctor's nape.

Greg thought that Mycroft had been right, Sherlock could deal with it. And so could the rest of the world now.


End file.
